


Dream SMP Oneshots [Previously "New (Old) Clothes"]

by afeatherinthewind



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: ANGST FOR THE ANGST GODS, Angst, BBH shaking rn, Blood, Crying, Dream Smp, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Dreams and Nightmares, Explicit Language, Family Dynamics, Fix-It of Sorts, Mentions of drugs, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE RANBOO DOES CANONICALLY FIVE TIMES EVERY STREAM, Orphans, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Spoilers, The Voices, Tommy is in it so, all that good shit, december 16th stream, fixing the canon lol, head voices, sbi, techno denies the family dynamic, the government
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28128006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afeatherinthewind/pseuds/afeatherinthewind
Summary: Retitled as there are now multiple parts within (recommend reading both, but I think either can be complete stories w/o the other). More parts may or may not be added!Part I. New (Old) ClothesTommy went from ragged clothes to a good-as-new getup overnight between streams, let’s explore how that might’ve happened!Heavily inspired by “the lights go out (my heart goes still)” by cursewormPart II. MemoriesDreams are a peculiar thing, because until one wakes up, one typically won’t even be able to acknowledge their own dream state.Technoblade is not a fan.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 1011
Collections: Found family to make me feel something





	1. New (Old) Clothes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the lights go out (my heart goes still)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099206) by [curseworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curseworm/pseuds/curseworm). 



> AKA I was reading a really good fic (linked below!), and thought of an extra little scene during Tommy’s raid of Techno’s base (seriously, it’s so good and this is kinda in-between scenes for that one, so go read it! )
> 
> PSA that it’s all based on scripted roleplay! All the real life boys are ok :)
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099206/chapters/68847153

Tommy flung the door to Technoblade's house wide open, wincing, preparing for the worst. He was met only with the gentle sounds of a crackling fire pit. No furious estranged brothers, no omnipresent smiling masked tyrant, just warmth and light. Tommy looked nervously back at the horse outside, then gulped and took a few steps in. 

“Te...Technoblade?” his trembling voice echoed through the walls of the small empty home.

Seems he really wasn’t home. But he’d been hallucinating, it would be better to check. He saw a ladder leading to different floors of the home. He poked his head into the hole with the ladder and shouted again. 

“Technoblade?” his call echoed again. Maybe louder.

“Technoblade! You in here, ya bitch?”  
Silence.

Tommy chuckled. That nerd was probably off mining or some shit, always putting in so much effort. The younger boy looked around the main room he was currently in while moving closer to the firepit, subconsciously desperate for the warmth. Guess that's what a long-ass trip through a snow biome with a missing shoe and ripped clothes would get you. He admired the view out the window; the snowy night looked so peaceful when he wasn't dragging his own near-corpse away from monsters and fighting off frostbite. And of course he noticed the chests.

His brother had always been a collector that kept a lot of things that he might not ever need, but kept just in case. The curiosity of what was hiding in the home’s storage ate away at him, but the fear of getting caught (after the events following getting caught by Dream earlier in the day) made him stop his hand reaching towards the chests. Techno and Dream weren’t the same. Technoblade wasn’t even pretending to be Tommy’s friend. Dream had been pretending, and had still treated him with such cruelty. How would an enemy like Techno react to such an act of broken trust? He stared at his trembling hand for a moment, then sighed, frustrated. 

No. He was so tired of being afraid. Techno wasn’t around. Tommy let out a pathetic laugh at his sorry self, trembling at the thought of stealing when that’s all he’d done all his life. He needed to get back to his old self. He rolled his eyes and shouted again to the empty house.

“OH TECHNOBLADE! I’m gonna go through your shit and take whatever the hell I want, prick! Try and stop me, bitch!”

His laughter faded into the silence as he waited for a moment, waiting to see one last time if Techno would burst through the door. But he didn’t. So Tommy grinned and threw open the chest. Emerald stacks, coal, bones… Potions. Jackpot.

\---

The high of the strength potion invigorated him as Tommy continued looking through Techno’s chests. He had missed that feeling of bravery- that pep in his step. 

The high reminded him of the early days in L’Manberg, brewing with Wilbur. It was a thought that made him sigh. Things were so much simpler when it was just the two of them, the drug van… and Tubbo. 

No. No time for thoughts like that! He slammed the chest he was currently digging through shut and stood up. The potions effects’ demanded movement. Tommy went back to the ladder and decided to head up first. At the top floor, he was unsurprised to find a small library and enchanting table setup. He noticed Techno’s bed and laughed. 

“That nerd, sleeping by his books. ‘My name is Technoblade and I sleep near my enchanting table to absorb it’s magic in my sleep, because I’m the best fighter in the world!’”

He laughed at his own joke and plopped onto the bed- hard enough to shake the shelf above and send a box plummeting to the floor. Shit. Tommy scrambled off the bed and rolled the box over to be upright and facing him. Scribbled on the box in ink was a single word. ‘Memories’. 

“...What?” Tommy mumbled as he pulled the box open. 

He was first met with the last thing he expected- an old, wrinkled photograph of himself. And Wilbur. And Philza. And Techno. 

Tommy was so little in Phil’s arms in the picture; he couldn’t remember when it had been taken. On Phil’s left, Wilbur had his guitar and grinned brighter than Tommy had seen in a long time. On his right, Technoblade (not smiling, but looking rather peaceful) held an enchanted book. Tommy wondered if the props were intentional or if Phil had been unable to get them to put those things down for the short time it took to take a family photo. The thought made him smile a bit. 

He purposefully ignored the stinging at the corners of his eyes as he flipped the picture over, but there was no inscription or anything. He delicately placed it on the floor beside him and continued looking through the chest (much more delicate and slow than he had looked through the others). Upon further inspection he found a book, assumingly one of Techno’s notebooks. Tommy thought about looking through it, but figured if nothing else he should honor the privacy of a diary. There were a lot of things in the box Tommy didn’t recognize, but then he was surprised once again. 

Neatly folded at the bottom of the box was an old pair of Tommy’s clothes. They looked almost identical to the clothes he was currently wearing, except of course for the rips and dirt and blood. Hell, there was even an old pair of his shoes. 

Tommy remembered the day Techno first left home a few years back. He had been in such a hurry to get away, and Tommy didn’t know why, and it hurt to see one of his brothers hurting like that. In his efforts to leave quickly he’d grabbed the first chest he found, shoved a few belongings in and headed out. They later realized that the chest had still had some of Tommy’s clothes in it- he remembered being pissed that Techno would steal from him (even accidentally) and demanded Phil replace them. This must’ve been that chest, Tommy realized. 

He bit his lip, sucked in his breath and quickly tried to rub away the tears in his eyes. Stupid. Why would that idiot keep his shit all this time? More importantly, Tommy wondered why he’d been so upset back then. It was such an insignificant thing, his clothes. But here they were, in a box labelled ‘Memories’, making him weep like an idiot. 

For a while Tommy just sat there, crying out all the tears that had been waiting to bubble to the surface for so long. Tears for himself, tears for his family, tears for the fears of the future- or lack thereof. Eventually, he felt good enough to carefully replace any contents of the box he’d taken out, except for his new- well, old clothes. Out of all the things the child was pilfering, he figured Techno wouldn’t mind if these went missing. 

It felt good to finally get even just a few of his belongings returned to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst angst angst angst angst! The strength pot gave him the strength.... to cry! :))))
> 
> This arc is a doozie, amirite?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! I doubt I’ll write any more DreamSMP fanfic after this (it’s really more for myself than anyone else shhhhh). Anyways. Subscribe to Technoblade. Read curseworm’s fic if you haven’t already. Pog through the pain. LATER NERDS!
> 
> EDIT: HOly I've never woken up to 100 kudos overnight, POG?? Thank you to everybody reading! :D  
> mmmmmaybe therewillbemoreinthefuture but like only if I get inspired or somethin and I guess if people want that haha!


	2. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams are a peculiar thing, because until one wakes up, one typically won’t even be able to acknowledge their own dream state. 
> 
> Technoblade is not a fan.

Loud. Annoying. Ridiculous. Infuriating. Painful to think about. 

All adjectives that could be used to describe two very notable things in Technoblade's life: The Voices and Tommyinnit. 

Today, the voices were being particularly… well, all of those things. 

Some would cry out, **“Technoblade, we know where your Tubbo is hiding your weapons!”**  
Others would yell back, **“Quiet, no snitching!”**

The same cycle, back and forth, over, and over- when would those voices learn? 

“I’m NOT listening to you guys, alright? Stop shouting coordinates! You’ve led me on wild goose chases before, I’m not falling for it again!” the piglin grumbled to himself as he slammed the lid of his potions chest. 

It occurred to him that the little gremlin Tommy might be around and concerned to hear Techno shouting at no one in particular, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He was so used to being alone out here in the cold wastelands that he’d grown accustomed to shouting back at The Voices every now and then. It was hard not to talk back when the only company you had was a cacophony of nonsensical screeching, concerned whispers, and vicious laughter. And Phil, of course, whenever he’d visit.

Techno climbed downstairs to fill several glass bottles with water in the little pool he’d placed there, and he could hear Tommy’s faint snoring below. Before heading back up, he noticed something scribbled on the wall above Tommy’s ladder- which was _supposed_ to be covered up- and sighed. The moron had used a rock or something to scratch up the wall and had drawn a literal picture of himself. Even after Techno had scolded him for the giant cobblestone tower and told the little idiot to at least _try_ hiding his presence as a fugitive from Dream. 

The Voices kept on laughing.

Whatever. He told himself that he could care less if the dumbass got caught, he was practically asking to be found. It would just be less trouble for him anyways. No more missing gapples or aesthetic attacks on his home. It would be peaceful again... No, no. Wishing for peace now would be foolish. Not now that he had the child in his basement and the attention from Dream and L’manburg.

Technoblade returned upstairs and got to work brewing more potions. He knew they’d need more invisibility potions to avoid detection in L’manburg during their scouting missions. Not that those idiots could probably stop him anyways, he’d fought off three of them just the other day with nothing but his pickaxe-

**“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD.”**

Ugh. Not again. Focus. He carefully dropped the netherwarts and golden carrots in the bases of his potion stands.

As the blazerods lit up and the water bottles began to boil, infusing with the fiery magic of the blaze powder, Technoblade waited patiently while staring out the window. His once beautiful view was now obstructed by Tommy’s dumb tower. It sparked old memories of a time long ago when the kid first started building. 

**“Awwww! Little brother Tommy!”**

Ignore them. Maybe they’ll shut up.

**“Techno misses his family!”**

…

**“I hope one day the family can all be together again!”**

Techno groaned and tried to distract himself by sorting the misplaced items in his chest (courtesy of Tommy’s rummaging). 

**“Tommy really is the annoying little brother messing with his stuff!”**

Techno breathed deeply. “Guys, he’s like this with literally everyone. It’s not special. Stop-”

The Voices overpowered the sound of his own voice. **“Brothers, brothers, brothers, brothers!”** they chanted rapidly, painfully. They laughed and screeched.

Finally, Techno couldn’t take it and threw an empty glass bottle at the wall, breathing heavily. 

“STOP… saying that. He’s not…They. Aren’t. My. Family.”

The Voices were wrong. They had to be wrong. He would never treat his own family the way he’d treated Tommy and Wilbur. He wouldn’t…

The Voices went wild. There were echoes in the pig’s mind of crying and shouting. They spoke so fast it was impossible to keep up.

**“WHAT?? Tell us what happened, Techno! Tell us the truth! Explain! You’re WRONG.”**

He groaned and grabbed his head. He hated this. The voices acted like they weren’t around since he was a child, probably just to annoy him.

The memories were there, scraping at the back of his mind, threatening to overtake him. He’d had enough. He’d finish his potions later, for now it was time for some long overdue sleep. With a sigh, he climbed the ladder to his attic bedroom and fell unceremoniously into his bed. His red eyes stared empty up at the ceiling. It was at that moment that he noticed something different… the box on the shelf above his bed was a few inches further to the right than it usually was.

Ugh. Of course Tommy had found _that_ box. That box of memories a small part of him refused to get rid of...

Nope. Nope nope nope. He had come up here to avoid thinking about the past and a stupid box wasn’t going to interrupt his plan to sleep. He rolled over to his side and shut his eyes stubbornly. 

It took a while, and a lot of tossing and turning, but eventually the pigman did indeed manage to fall asleep. His wish to avoid thinking about the past, however, would not be granted tonight, as he was met with dreams of a much, much different time.

...  
...  
...

“Tommy’s eating mud outside.”

“Again?!”

Technoblade looked up from his book to watch Wilbur laugh his head off as Philza rushed out the door of their cozy cottage in the woods. 

“...Really?”

Wilbur’s fit of laughter continued as he tried to find the breath to speak. “I told him… Oh, gods. I told him Philza would be proud of him!” 

“That’s… wow.” Techno shook his head before returning his gaze to the book. 

The pages looked different now. Ancient runes, glowing with enchantments that felt safe, familiar. Techno gripped the book tighter. 

“Where’d you get that, little guy?” He looked up again at Philza’s voice, only to find himself not at home, but in a dark alley on a cold night. The cold seeped through to his very bones, so unlike his home. He missed home. 

“I… my mom gave it to me.”

“Oh? Where is she then? What’s a piglin doing out here all alone?” The man was wearing clothes that appeared to be some sort of soldier’s uniform. He cocked his head, glancing around. 

The question made Technoblade think. What was he doing out here? Where was his-

“MOM!” 

The scream tore itself from his throat painfully. In the blink of an eye, he was there. Home. The Nether. The sounds of war surrounded him. It was The Bastion, which had been reduced to utter chaos as invading forces advanced through the sacred halls of his forefathers. He watched in horror as his people fought for their lives. Among those fighting were his father, axe held high, and his mother, crossbow firing rapidly. She looked back at him, fire in her eyes. The piglin woman took off her bag of supplies and thrusted it into her child’s hands forcefully. 

“Son, get out of here! Go to their portal! Be safe!” 

“Mom, no, not without you and Dad!” 

“GO!”

He’d never seen her so furious. She whipped back around to fire her crossbow again. He saw her eyes widen and fill with tears, and upon following her gaze he saw the sword plunged into his father’s still body on the ground. It couldn’t be--

“Get… get out of here NOW! Tec-”

His mother’s trembling voice was cut off as an arrow pierced her throat. The sight burned itself into the boy’s heart. Before he knew what was happening he was turning and running. He ran and ran, unable to think. He had to run. He had to escape-

“TAG! You’re it!” 

He turned again, and this time saw Tommy and Wilbur running away from him through the sunny meadow, laughing.

Technoblade came to a stop as he stared at them. Something stirred in his heart. The other boys noticed that he had stopped and also slowly came to a halt.

“You’re so bad at this, Techno! Come on!”

“Wilby, he’s probably scared of me! He’s scared I’ll beat him up with my big muscles!” 

The other boys argued back and forth as Techno watched, still staring at them. Right, he was supposed to chase them. Catch them. They were his prey. Whispers in his mind grew into screeching demands and he couldn’t fight it- he continued the chase.

Wilbur and Tommy saw him running and proceeded to try escaping, still naively under the assumption that this was still just a game to Technoblade. Wilbur was the slower one, and it took very little time for Techno to catch up. Outstretched claws ripped into Wilbur's back. The boy screamed out in pain. The smell of fresh blood, the pride of the successful attack, and approving screeches of The Voices filled Technoblade’s mind in a flurry. He saw nothing but red as he continued ripping into flesh. He couldn’t hear Tommy and Wilbur screaming over The Voices laughing. The Voices were all he could hear until-

“What are you doing??” 

It was Phil’s voice that brought him back to his senses. He looked up from the unfamiliar corpse in front of him. The young piglin was covered in blood and panting heavily. He stared back at Phil through the snow falling. He heard the faint sounds of explosions in the distance.

“Technoblade, come on, we have to move!”

Techno cried out and felt his bones cracking as magic coursed through his veins and he transformed into his new humanoid form. 

“Blood… need blood… blood for the... blood god…” The child murmured through deep breaths.

“Shit, not now-” Philza cursed at the poor timing for the transformation. “Listen to my voice Techno. I don’t know what kind of fucked up experiments they did to you back there, but if we don’t get out of here right now they’ll take you back and keep you locked up in there forever. You have to pull yourself together long enough to get out of here, can you do that?”

It was hard for Techno to comprehend all the words the soldier was saying but he knew the man had been kind to him. He missed kindness... in this facility he had been shown little. The boy nodded. 

“Good, come on. Here.” The man tore a bit of cloth from his uniform and held it out to Techno. “You should wipe the blood off the best you can.”

Techno took the cloth and stared at it, getting lost in it once again. A loud knocking sound drew him from his trance. Once again he found himself transported back to that cottage in the woods, staring at the door as Philza opened it. He couldn’t see who was on the other side, but the voice sounded soft and worried. He got up from the couch and inched closer to the entryway to hear better.

“...guys in uniforms in town. They were asking about a Piglin hybrid, I think they know you’re here...” 

The stranger’s words caught Techno’s attention and he tried to listen in, but Tommy entered the room behind him. The teen started making a fuss about something or other, making it difficult to eavesdrop. 

“Techno, man, I’m talking to you here, pay attention! Who is the best woman??” 

He rolled his eyes, shoved Tommy to the side unceremoniously, and went to Phil who was closing the door. Tommy grumbled as he left the room the way he’d come from.

“What did they say, Phil?”

The man glanced to the side awkwardly and rubbed his neck, clearly debating internally about what to say. 

“Phil, it’s them, isn’t it? The people that made me like this, they’re here, aren’t they?”

Phil looked even more worried and put his hands up defensively. “Calm down, we don’t know that for sure.”

“Who else goes around asking for a Piglin hybrid? They’re back and they’re not stopping until they find me. You know how they are.”

Phil let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, you’re right. But we shouldn’t act irrationally. If we prepare we can fight them off-”

“The two of us against an entire government? We won’t stand a chance!”

“I’m not letting them take you, son.”

A cold silence filled the room. A silence that spoke volumes. Phil's eyes fell to the ground, heavy with the weight of what he'd said. Technoblade turned away and began frantically searching through barrels and chests for supplies. Food, bow and arrows, axe... Finally he spoke again, but didn't stop or look at Phil, he didn't have time for this.

“I’m not your son. I’m getting out of here, I’ll lead them away.”

“What? No way, that’s- Techno, please. I can help you!”

Techno turned to face the man once again. “No, Phil. You’ve helped me all you can, alright? You harbored a fugitive for this many years. You got me out of that hellhole. And if you’re so desperate to be a good father now, you have to think about _them_.” 

He pointed at a picture in a little frame on the fireplace mantle of the boys and their guardian. Phil went quiet.

“They need you. And I need you to let me go so I can keep you all safe, got it?”

Phil stayed silent and Techno knew he didn’t have time to wait for an answer. He left the room, grabbed the first chest he saw, and shoved his belongings inside. Tommy was there, looking confused. 

“Oi! That’s my chest! What are you doing?”

Techno didn’t reply and kept to his task. He didn’t have time. The soldiers could be here any minute with weapons and-

“Hellooooo! Technoblade, prick, I’m talking to you here! Stop ignoring me, you-”

Techno finally snapped, glaring at the young teen. “Shut up, Tommy! For once in your life just shut up and let me do what I need to do, alright?” 

It worked, Tommy was stunned into silence. Techno slammed the chest shut and left the room. Phil stood in the doorway with an additional bag of supplies in hand. He held it out with a sad smile. 

“When did you get so grown up on me, huh?”

Techno remained quiet as he took the offering. Phil sighed.

“Where will you go then?”

“Not sure. I’ll hitch a ride on the first supply caravan I see.”

Phil let out another long sigh and put a comforting hand on Techno’s shoulder. 

“It’ll be no problem for the human GPS, right? Well…” he pulled out the old family photo that had previously been on the mantle. “If you find yourself able to come back, you’ll always have a place here. You may not be my son, but you’re for sure my friend. And I’ll gladly kill any of those bastards that come looking for you.”

They shared a sad smile as Technoblade took the picture and gently put it into the box. 

“Thanks, Phil… Look after the potato garden for me, okay? And keep Tommy away from sharp objects. And make sure Wilbur gets a start on that music career he’s always talking about.”

Phil nodded. “I promise.”

Light filled his vision as he exited through the doorway, leaving that place behind for the last time.

…

…

…

Techno felt his eyes pry themselves open, wincing at the unwelcome sunlight from his window. He rolled to the side and grabbed the broken glasses from his nightstand. He really should get those fixed, a voice told him. For once the voice sounded not malicious, but somehow like Philza’s voice. 

He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

He really, really did not like dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! I lied! Well, I was wrong, to be more accurate, when I said I wouldn’t write more mcyt fic. Oops. 
> 
> This is my first time writing a bizarre dream sequence to explain exposition, hopefully it works? I was super worried about it being too confusing, too vague, and too “spell it all out”-y, all at the same time haha. 
> 
> I have an obnoxious amount of headcanons and theories for the Dream SMP/SBI backstory and Iove the challenge of adapting to new information as it’s presented in the streams (LOOKING AT YOU, TECHNOBLADE, DENYING THE FAMILY DYNAMIC AS CANON- /j; I don’t actually want to force anything to be canon that isn’t that’s shitty, but the angst potential in him saying that--) 
> 
> Anyways. I’m sorry my writing will not be consistent as I’m just currently on break from work for the next week, once that’s over I’ll almost definitely have no time for fic writing. I’m on Twitter and tumblr tho and post dsmp in both places.
> 
> Also, thank you SO MUCH for all the people reading, bookmarking, and leaving comments and kudos! They make my day :)
> 
> To be continued…!? (I seriously have no idea but if you follow you’ll be alerted to anything new!)
> 
> buuhyyeee
> 
> EDIT: 5000+ hits AHHH TYSM <3


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